


Dig

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Buried Alive, Claustrophobia, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Nightmares, Romance, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-27 08:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: When the reader ends up in a situation that conjures all her worst nightmares, she can’t cope. Dean looks after her and they face their feelings for each other.





	Dig

You could still hear your own screams.

It had been three nights since the ghoul hunt, since you’d been trapped in a coffin and buried under six feet of dirt. Sam and Dean had only just got to you in time before you’d suffocated.

Three nights of waking in a cold sweat, screaming for help and blind. You couldn’t even drift off without the light on and a few glasses of hunter’s helper. And for three nights in a row, Dean had been there, soothing you, calming you. Holding you until you could fall back to sleep without the nightmares.

This was the fourth night and so far, you hadn’t been able to sleep. You lay, staring at the ceiling, watching a fly that had found its way into the belly of the bunker and was now lazily circling, probably close to death. 

Someone knocked at the door and you rolled your head to the side. “Come in.” The door creaked open and Dean’s head poked around it, a grin on his face. “Hi,” you greeted, frowning. “Everything okay?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were still awake,” he asked, stepping into your room. “Is it okay if I come in?”

“Of course,” you replied, sitting up, holding the covers to your chest. It was the middle of summer and the bunker’s magical AC was only functional for parts of the day - they hadn’t figured out where the timer was yet. So, you slept in shorts and a crop top, which left you feeling a little exposed around the older Winchester.

Dean closed the door and crossed the room, wearing only a pair of sweats and you swallowed the excess of saliva just a glimpse at his bare torso produced. He dropped onto the bed, swinging his legs up and snuggling down into your pillows. “You can’t sleep either, huh?”

“No,” you admitted, laying down on your side to face him. Dean’s expression was sympathetic. Pressing closer, you buried your face in his chest, hearing his heartbeat underneath his skin. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there and it frightens me.”

“Big tough girl like you?” he teased and you smiled, wishing his playful comments didn’t rub your insecurities. Dean was your friend, he had been for a long time, and your fantasies were a million miles from how you were sure he felt about you.

Neither of you spoke, just listening to the other breathing and you closed your eyes, enjoying the steady beat of his heat under your ear. 

“I have a dream,” Dean started to sing, “a song to sing.” You looked up at him in surprise. He smirked, pushing hair back from your face. “To help me cope with anything.”

“Abba?”

He shrugged lazily, rolling onto his back and tugging at your shoulder to bring you down with him. “First thing that came to mind.” Laying your head back on his chest, you placed one hand over his belly, smiling when he jumped a little as your fingers brushed a ticklish spot.

“If you see the wonder,” you closed your eyes again, just listening to his deep voice, “of a fairytale. You can take the future,” his fingers trailed across the top of your palm, “even if you fall.” The warmth of his body was comforting, the rise and fall of his chest and the way his voice seemed to vibrate down your spine, almost obliterating the feeling of his hand on your nearly bare hip. “I believe in angels, something good in everything I see.”

The words drifted into nonsense as your mind closed down, your body finally getting the rest it needed.

*****

It had been a long time since you’d woken up with someone next to you. Someone wrapped around you from behind, warm breath coasting over your shoulder as they slumbered on. You frowned, the details of the night before filtering back through your sleepy haze.

Dean had stayed.

You hadn’t had a single nightmare.

For the first time in days, you felt rested and fresh, able to get out of bed and face the day. Dean, on the other hand, seemed content to have you right where you were.

His erection was persistently pressing against your ass and you needed to pee. You had no choice but to move, forcing his arms away when they momentarily tightened around you. “Hey,” Dean protested, frowning with his eyes closed. “Where you goin’?”

“Bathroom,” you giggled, fighting your way away from him and the visible tent in his sweats. “You might wanna think about it too.”

“Don’t need it,” he grumbled, nuzzling into your shoulder.

You didn’t reply to that, stumbling away with hot cheeks and the thought of the bulge in Dean’s pants. But it was just morning wood, not a reaction to you. You weren’t foolish enough to think anything of the sort.

Once you’d relieved yourself, you returned to your room, expecting Dean to be gone. Yet, when you entered, you were surprised to find him still in exactly the same position, awake and staring at you with a dozy expression. “Comfortable?” you quipped, moving over to your dresser. “I’m about to get changed.”

“And?” Dean asked, propping himself up on one elbow. “I don’t mind.”

“Dean,” you hissed. “You don’t wanna see this. Seriously. You can leave. I don’t need a guardian against nightmares during the day.”

He shrugged. “I don't know about that. Sammy can be a bit of a nightmare.” You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, sitting up, the covers around his waist making him look nude. “Why do I have to leave?”

“It’s my room. I’m going to get dressed. That means I’ll be naked,” you explained slowly, like he were a child. Dean just smirked right on back.

“And I wouldn’t wanna see that.... Why, exactly?” he prompted and you glared at him. “Sweetheart, I’m sitting with a hard on that could bend steel right now.”

You stepped back. “That’s morning wood,” you refuted, shaking your head. “Happens to everyone.”

“I’ve been awake since you wiggled that cute ass against my cock at 6am,” Dean drawled, his expression anything but joking. “Sweetheart, you gotta realize what I’m saying here. I’m in your bed because I  _ want _ to be, not cause I  _ have _ to be.”

“But…” you faltered, looking at him in confusion. “The nightmares. You were here because of the nightmares.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, I came in here the first time because of that. But I could have had Cas deal with it or get Sam to research some potion to stop you dreaming. There were a million other things I could have done but I  _ wanted _ to be here for you. To comfort you.” He pulled the sheet away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I nearly lost you to those goddamn ghouls, Y/N and I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I never would have gotten to do this.”

You blinked, your confusion worsening. Were you dreaming? Hallucinating? Had you actually died in that coffin and this was your heaven.

No. Dean would be naked. And joined by Chris Hemsworth.

“Dean, I don’t understand. Do what?”

He was on his feet and stalking towards you before you knew it, towering over you with his taller frame, his big hands taking hold of your shoulders. “This,” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours. For a second, you were so stunned you didn’t react, stood there like a board, stiff and unyielding to his advances.

Then it all seemed to melt as his arms surrounded you, pulling you deeper, addicting you to his taste in a matter of seconds. It didn’t matter what came next - this was more than you’d ever dreamed of.

Dean broke away to breathe, panting heavily, eyes so dark you could barely see any color at all in them. “I can’t lose you,” he murmured, one hand cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “When we couldn’t find you, I thought… if you were dead, I wouldn’t ever to get to tell you that you’re the only woman I can think of, the only one I want warming my bed. Shit, I’ve been in love with you since you rear-ended me in that motel parking lot.”

“I was trying to get away,” you mumbled, embarrassed. “Everyone always said not to go near you.”

“They were probably right,” he grumbled in response, his mouth drawing closer to yours again.

“I think it’s too late now,” you breathed out, just as his lips pressed against yours once more and he pulled you back towards the bed. “Dean, I…” You braced your hands against his chest and he froze, frowning at you in concern. “I’m not like other girls,” you whimpered, miserable at the thought of him rejecting you once he saw you naked. 

He pulled back, looking down at you, still in your cropped shirt and shorts. “I’m not seeing a problem.”

You couldn’t help it; you huffed pathetically. “I’ve seen the girls you like, Dean. Busty Asian Beauties? You like… you like skinny girls with big tits and a nice firm ass.”

“We all have fantasies,” he dismissed.

“Exactly my point. Your fantasy is “hot porn star”. My fantasy… my… I’m not  _ anyone’s _ fantasy, least of all yours.”

Dean shook his head. “Just how shallow do you think I am, Y/N?” His hands were on your hips again and your heart skipped a beat as you tried not to burst into tears. “Dig a little deeper, baby. I’ve been dropping really bad hints your way for months.”

Confusion made you scowl. “What?”

“The flirting?” he pointed out. “All the innuendos. Hell, on that poltergeist hunt last month, I couldn’t stop watching your ass when you were fighting that thing. Nearly got my arm cut off.” You blinked, wondering if he’d gone mad. 

“Dean, you flirt with  _ everyone _ . It’s just you.”

He laughed at that, tilting his head a little. “I don’t flirt with everyone the way I flirt with you,” he paused, frowning, “I think.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t notice…” you whispered, staring at him with wide eyes. “Dean, how could you possibly find me attractive?”

His hands slid from your hips to your ass and he grinned. “How could I not? You’re… you’re passionate and funny, smart and damn scary when you gotta be. You’re a friggin’ Warrior Princess.” You burst out laughing at his awful pop culture reference and Dean’s smile widened. “Just when you laugh, it’s like you take everything dark out of a room and make it bright, happy… you’re a million different levels of awesome, sweetheart.”

Frustrated and angry tears turned to the sort that stung your eyes when someone complimented you and you had no clue how to reply. 

But Dean wasn’t done, his hands coming up to cup your face gently. “If anything, I don’t know why anyone would be attracted to me.”

You spluttered at that, almost laughing at the ridiculous notion that Dean Winchester wasn’t attractive to anyone. He was brave, kind, compassionate, smart, funny - there wasn’t anything about him you didn’t adore.

Not that you would ever speak those words aloud for fear of embarrassing yourself. Instead, you said something worse. “Who the hell wouldn’t find you attractive? Have you seen you?” He raised an eyebrow and you decided to dig the hole a little bit deeper, rambling now to try and prove a point Dean wasn’t buying. “You’re practically a Greek fucking God and stood next to me… how could that not be a pity fuck, Dean?”

His hands landed on your shoulders, gripping you tightly. “Why would you ever think you’d be a pity fuck?”

“I got buried alive,” you hiccuped. “Those ghouls weren’t even interested in eating me, they just wanted me dead. There was no air, no light, no nothing and I thought I was going to die and then I couldn’t breathe…” You blinked up at him, tears starting to fall from your lashes. “And then I was blind and it was just you. You saved me and I nearly died. And now you feel sorry for me.”

Dean was scowling at you in disbelief but you shrugged his hands off and turned away. “You really think that? That I’m here because I feel sorry that you nearly died?” He snorted, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, you’ve nearly died quite a few times and I wasn’t brave enough to come knocking on your door half-naked.”

You didn’t turn away, hugging yourself, arms around your waist just barely, wishing the earth would swallow you whole. “You’re my friend. You heard me screaming.”

The sound of skin hitting skin made you turn back and see Dean with his hand over his face. “You really weren’t listening to a word I said, were you?”

He was in front of you in an instant, dropping to his knees and you gasped, trying to move back but his hands caught hold of yours.

“Maybe I’ve only known you a few years,” he whispered, kissing the knuckles of your right hand, keeping his eyes on yours, “but I’ve thought you were beautiful since the second I laid eyes on you. Looks are nothing. Looks are superficial. You make me  _ happy _ , Y/N, and it’s been a damn age since I felt like that with anyone.”

“I just don’t understand why it’s me,” you replied, closing your eyes when he kissed your left hand, “because you could have anyone.”

Dean shrugged, still not getting up off of his knees. “I don’t want  _ anyone _ . I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I just wasn’t man enough.” You pulled on his hands, encouraging him to his feet. “I’m punching here, sweetheart. Way above my weight.”

You giggled. “No punching,” you murmured and Dean smiled, dragging you close against his body, preventing you from hiding yourself. His arms were warm, his chest warmer and you could still feel the outline of his cock through his sweats. “Me?”

“You,” Dean affirmed before sweeping you away with a kiss, his lips soft and inviting, tongue sweeping over your lower lip to seek entrance.

Kisses weren’t supposed to be like they were in the movies or those awful romance novels you remember your Aunt Kelly having when you visited as a kid. It wasn’t supposed to be fireworks and the urge to lift one foot off of the floor like some kind of princess. But somehow, with Dean, it was all that and more.

He moaned against your mouth, using one hand to cup your ass, grinding his hips against yours. When he broke away, he pulled you backward to the bed, turning to let you sink down onto the soft mattress first. The kissing continued and you found yourself more aroused than you might have ever been in your life.

“Can I taste you?” Dean asked, almost shy in his request.

“I’m not…” God, he still hadn’t seen you naked. And he was jumping straight to oral sex? “Er…” You stumbled over your words, feeling like a blushing virgin even though you weren’t. But Dean, he was different. Some part of you still believed you’d died in that coffin and this was your heaven, even if the touch and warmth of him was tangible under your skin.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours, “too fast, I get it.”

“Can we kiss some more?” you whispered and Dean grinned. His lips met yours once more in another thigh-soaking kiss.

After a few more hours in bed, talking nonsense and sharing lazy, drawn-out kisses that curled your toes, you finally conceded the need to eat and shower. Dean sulked for a few minutes before suggesting he join you in the shower, receiving a pillow up the side of his head for the trouble.

“What kinda girl do you think I am, Dean Winchester?” you asked playfully and he smiled at you, one of those rare smiles where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his eyes seemed just a shade lighter, sparkling with mirth.

“The kind worth waiting for,” he replied and you dashed for the shower before you could drag him with you.

*****

Dean spent every night in your bed after that. The nightmares still came on occasion, usually after something set them off or you had a bad day, but Dean always managed to make them seem less frightening. Now, they ended without the choking or the blindness; they ended with the light and Dean standing there, saving you.

A little bit of you thought it was too good to be true, that it had to be fake. When Sam caught on to what was occurring, he simply smiled and said it was about time. Jody was over the moon when she heard, also expressing a surprise it had taken so long.

Had everyone known but you? Were you that blind to anyone thinking  _ good _ of you that you automatically ignored any attempt?

Dean seemed to think it was funny. You weren’t sure how to feel about it at all which held you back from going any further than third base. He didn’t push his luck beyond the odd suggestive comment but the longer you left it, the more you felt like you were pushing him away.

He’d slept with more people than you, he was older, more experienced… what if you were awful? What if seeing you naked finally clued him in to how hideous you were.

Two weeks after Dean had finally told you how he felt, you were called out on a ghost hunt by an old friend. You went alone, with no resistance from Dean or Sam, taking the old Ford in the garage. The hunt was done in thirty-six hours and you turned right back around to Lebanon.

The bunker seemed deserted when you pulled the car into the garage, frowning at the open door. Slipping up the steps, you headed for the bedrooms, intent on changing and showering.

Dean’s bedroom door was open. You heard his voice and stopped just outside, hearing a one-sided conversation. “She texted me about three hours ago. She’ll be home soon.” You frowned; that didn’t sound good. “Are you sure this is gonna work?” Ugh, not being able to hear the other side was frustrating and you leaned in a little more. “Yeah, I know, but…” Dean sighed, “Y/N isn’t just  _ any _ girl, Sammy. She’s the one.”

Your throat tightened and your chest felt like it might burst with the strength of your heartbeat. Dean chuckled at something Sam said, drawing your attention back to the conversation.

“Yeah, yeah, you too, bitch.” The bed squeaked as he stood up. “Look, she’s gonna be home soon. Just give us a day, yeah?” His footsteps neared the door and you jogged down the hall, turning and approaching like you had only just arrived. “Y/N!” Dean exclaimed, holding his phone in his hand.

“Hey,” you greeted, giving him a little wave. “Miss me?”

“You bet,” he growled, stalking towards you and pulling into a deep kiss. You yelped in surprise, giggling when he nuzzled against your nose. “Sam’s out.”

“Where’s he gone? A hunt?”

Dean shrugged. “Don’t care. We got the place to ourselves for at least a day so I’ve hooked up the cable, got us some beers, some nachos,” he grinned, gesturing down the hallway. “It’s our day off, sweetheart.”

*****

“This is nice,” you murmured, laying with your head on Dean’s chest as you both watched through the last Marvel film on Netflix. Dean grinned, reaching out blindly for his beer, taking a quick sip before placing it back on the nightstand. “You have good ideas sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” he repeated, sounding shocked and you giggled.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Dean sat up, looking down at you with a mock scowl on his face and you laughed harder. “How dare you,” he hissed before pouncing on you and you shrieked as he found every single one of your ticklish spots, attacking you relentlessly until you were begging through tears.

Laughing became trying to catch your breath and Dean ceased his onslaught, leaning over you and smiling. Your eyes met his and he dropped his head to kiss you. The fire was already alight in your belly and you moaned into his mouth, sliding one hand up his chest and over his shoulder to cup the back of his head.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, breaking away to stare at you with lidded eyes.

You blushed, squirming and dropping your hand back to his shoulder. “I heard you on the phone,” you admitted. “What were you planning with Sam?”

His cheeks were bright red now and his focus darted away. “Nothing. He just… gave me some advice.”

“Netflix and chill?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him and his ears turned the same color as his cheeks. “You’re such a loser, Dean Winchester,” you giggled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Good thing I love you so much I don’t care if you have to ask your little brother for romance advice.”

Dean blinked at you, the words sinking into his brain quicker than they did yours. “You,” he swallowed, “you love me?”

Slowly, you nodded, unsure of what his reaction would be. You weren’t expecting him to laugh, although it was a relieved sound.

“Fuck,” he cursed, kissing you again but you were too stunned to respond. “All this time, I thought you just weren’t… interested or something.”

“Interested?” you murmured, confusion painted across your face. “In you? Of course I am.” You sighed, sitting up so you were eye level with him. “I’m just a little -” You stopped, fumbling for the right words. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything with anyone. I’m building up to it but I’m kinda scared you’ll see me… you know, naked, and run for the hills.”

Dean chuckled again, shaking his head a little. “We’re both fucking idiots, you know that?”

You smiled. “Yeah, we kinda are.”

He leaned in, kissing you, guiding you back down to the mattress. Pushing his body closer, he broke away to smile at you. “Would it help if I got naked first?” You couldn’t help your giggle as you nodded and Dean pulled back, jumping off of the bed and stripping in record time. It only made you laugh harder and he stood, nude in front of you, his fists resting on his hips in a kind of superhero pose, his erection bobbing between his legs. “How’s this?”

You looked at him contemplation, sweeping your gaze from his feet to his head, nodding appreciatively. “I can dig it.”

Dean gestured to you and you swallowed, a lump forming in your throat. “Your turn. You don’t have to pose or anything though.” He was still trying to keep you at ease but your mind was conjuring every scenario where he still laughed, still rejected you. “Need a hand?”

Sucking in a breath, you nodded at him and he crawled back onto the bed, kissing from your collarbone up to your throat, not stopping until he reached your lips. His fingers were in the waistband of your pants, thumbing the button open and you tried not to squirm away.

“You want me to stop?” he asked, pausing with his hand down your pants, resting over the thin cotton panties covering you. It took only a shake of your head for Dean to resuming kissing you, pushing your pants down your legs. You shook them off, gasping when his finger pressed into your clit through your panties, making your body clench in response. “So wet already, sweetheart,” Dean growled and you whimpered, parting your legs a little to give him better access.

Someone, at some point, had handed Dean the keys to figuring out a woman’s body better than she knew it, or at least, that’s how it felt for you when Dean could get you off with a single finger and some dirty words. Maybe you were just extra sensitive but he didn’t seem to need the slightest bit of coaxing, reading your body like a how-to for orgasms.

When you came down from your high, Dean was grinning triumphantly, his fingers dancing up to the hem of your t-shirt. “Next part,” he murmured and you nodded, lifting yourself to assist him in removing your top. He groaned when your bra-clad breasts were exposed, tossing your shirt across the room. “My favorite part,” Dean growled, burying his face in the valley of your chest, kissing over the swell of your breasts.

“Boob guy, huh?” you commented, giggling when he seized the fabric between his teeth. Without waiting for him, you slipped one arm up behind your back, unable to not wince as you did it, but you managed to unhook the bra easily. Dean smirked.

“You’re better at that than me,” he said, taking the bra away from you and tossing it to join your t-shirt. “Goddamn, I love your tits, darlin’.” There was low rumble in his chest as he dragged his tongue over your nipple, making you gasp. “Mmmm, your skin always tastes delicious.”

“Stop it,” you commanded breathlessly. “You’re a tease.”

Dean shrugged and turned his attention to your other breast, alternating between them until your nipples were hardened peaks. “Yeah,” he drawled, moving back up to kiss you again, his cock prodding your thigh, leaving a sticky trail of precum. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You whined when his fingers pushed your panties down, using your own hands to get them off quicker. He smiled at your enthusiasm, covering your body with his own when you were finally naked.

“You know how long,” he murmured, kissing along your jaw, “I’ve waited to feel you naked against me?” A blush heated your cheeks as Dean mouthed at the spot below your ear. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

Imagining this moment over and over, fantasies conjuring the impossible, you’d never thought it would be  _ better _ . You thought you might have been capable of words but the way Dean was moving, the things he was saying - cognitive function beyond “fire bad, tree pretty” was out of the question. You’d entirely reverted to cavegirl by the time Dean pressed between your thighs, forcing you to spread them.

The tip of his cock was pressed against you and the only thing you could think was a repetitive and blasphemous mantra. Your teeth were clinging to your bottom lip so hard you thought you could taste blood but there was no stopping it until Dean was finally buried inside you.

Your cry was muffled by his mouth, his tongue sweeping across yours as he started to move, rocking his hips slowly into you and god, you’d never felt so full. His every touch was gentle but laced with fire and you wondered if you were hallucinating.

Dean groaned, leaning his forehead against yours. “So wet for me, sweetheart,” he purred and you forgot how to breathe for a second, hiccuping on your own choked sob. “So slick and tight around me.” His words broke off into a moan as your body responded and clenched around him.

In your head, the sentence was structured, eloquently describing how this was, in fact, the  _ best fucking sex you’d ever had _ , and you were only two minutes into the actual act. What came out was: “Oh fuck.” At least it was gasping and wispy, like those girls on porn videos did, only you thought they’d been pretending to have good sex.

Either way, Dean responded by kissing you again, dragging his lower body against yours as he fucked you. Normally, you’d freak out at the way your thighs wobbed with each slap of his hips, or how your boobs rolled to the side but somehow, that thought never came. Like Dean was banishing every bad thought about yourself by worshipping you.

It made you bold.

Hooking your legs around his waist, you rolled, pinning him underneath you. Dean grunted, his cock unsheathed for the barest of moments before you were sinking down on him and his grunt of displeasure became a low snarl. His hands landed on your thighs, gazing at you with wide eyes as you rode him cowgirl style, no longer caring if he could see your belly, your hips, fuck, he could see your  _ arms _ and you didn’t fucking care.

You came before he did, gasping and shuddering out your climax as Dean encouraged you. “Good girl,” he whispered, “yeah, that’s it, cum on my cock. Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” His hips thrust up as you rode out the end of your climax and his jaw clenched. He came with a growl, reaching up to haul you down for one last kiss.

Both of you were panting when you parted by millimetres, not wanting to stop. But Dean’s rapidly softening cock was becoming an issue when cum dribbled out of your swollen pussy.

“Fuck,” he groaned as you rolled off to the side, reaching for a towel or anything on the floor to clean up with. When you turned back over, he was using his sweats, and you grimaced at him. “What?” he squeaked. “I’m not intending on putting them back on.”

You giggled, cleaning yourself up before sliding back under the covers. Dean shrugged himself underneath with you, pulling you flush against his body.

“No more nightmares tonight,” he murmured.

“They’re not nightmares anymore,” you whispered, feeling the drag of sleep on your eyelids. “You always save me.”

Dean smiled, nuzzling into your nose. “And I always will.”


End file.
